


Should we go now?

by Artemisausten



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Caspian just can't keep his hands to himself okay, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, male!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29683584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemisausten/pseuds/Artemisausten
Summary: A male reader imagine where you're taking Caspian back home to meet your parents and he just can't keep his hands to himself. Based on the prompt, "I know you said you didn't want to be late, but you look amazing and I'm trying not to kiss you senseless right now."________________________“I’m ready to go when you are,” Caspian announces confidently.“Yeah,” you manage to say, clearly through your throat and looking away before the color has the chance to rise in your cheeks and it becomes too obvious exactly what you were thinking. “Good.” You try to adjust the shoulder of your tunic one last time before sighing in defeat and letting your arms fall at your sides.You wouldn’t mind if a hole opened up in the floor and swallowed you alive right now. It had been a long day already, in a long week. Your hair won’t sit right, your back is sore from being so tense, and you look like you’re wearing someone else’s clothes on the same day that you’re introducing the King of Narnia, your fiancé, to your parents.Aslan has it out for you, you’re sure of it.
Relationships: Caspian (Narnia) & Reader, Caspian (Narnia)/Reader, Reader - Relationship
Kudos: 6





	Should we go now?

It’s really not a big deal.

That’s what you’ve been telling yourself for hours now. It’s not a big deal that you brought Caspian home to meet your family. It’s not a big deal that you’ve been alternately excited and dreading this day for weeks now. It’s not a big deal that the fucking _King_ of Narnia is coming home with you. It’s not a big deal that you can’t get the shoulders of your tunic to sit right.

 _Really, Y/N_ , you tell yourself silently, _it’s not that a big deal_.

Except the truth of it is that it _is_ a big deal, and that truth slams into you so hard that it nearly crushes the air from your lungs as you turn to see Caspian giving the collar of his jacket one firm tug and settling it neatly in place, the lines of his clothes annoyingly perfect against his tall, thin frame. It’s an even bigger deal when he reaches a hand up to brush back his silky soft, long black hair and you watch it brush back from his face only to fall forward, each stand falling exactly into place to frame those soft brown eyes and lips that are pulled into a small grin that you can’t look away from.

It’s a big fucking deal, you think as you roll your shoulder in your tunic and tug at the uncooperative fabric, and the world is just _not **fucking fair**_. “I’m ready to go when you are,” Caspian announces confidently, and some small, irrational part of you absolutely despises him for it.

The rest of you wants to shove him back against the wall and claim his lips with your own—and a few other parts of him, too, if you’re being honest.

“Yeah,” you manage to say, clearly through your throat and looking away before the color has the chance to rise in your cheeks and it becomes too obvious exactly _what_ you were thinking. “Good.” You try to adjust the shoulder of your tunic one last time before sighing in defeat and letting your arms fall at your sides.

You wouldn’t mind if a hole opened up in the floor and swallowed you alive right now. It had been a long day already, in a long week. Your hair won’t sit right, your back is sore from being so tense, and you look like you’re wearing someone else’s clothes on the same day that you’re introducing the King of Narnia, your fiancé, to your parents.

Aslan has it out for you, you’re sure of it.

To his credit, however, Caspian isn’t really looking at you like you’re having a bad hair/stress/tunic-just-won’t-sit-right-dammit kind of day. No, the look Caspian is giving you as he takes a heavy step toward you and that grin of his edges up into a smirk, hints at something more dangerous and predatory. “You know,” Caspian almost purrs as he comes up behind you and moves to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. “I know you said you didn’t want to be late, but you look amazing.”

You would snort at the sheer ridiculousness of this statement, knowing for a fact that you do _not_ look amazing, were it not for one of Caspian’s hands inching toward the waist of your pants while the other gently brushes over the bulge of your crotch. You inhale sharply, jaw closing tightly at the wave of electricity that seems to shoot through your body at the light touch. It only gets worse when Caspian leans in close to your ear, his breath tickling the side of your face as that purring voice of his gets lower and darker.

“And I’m trying not to kiss you senseless right now.”

Caspian doesn’t even need to touch you at this point—you can feel yourself hard against the material of your pants just from the feeling of Caspian’s breath on your face and the knowledge that his fingers are so close to your cock that you’d swear he’s touching you already even though he isn’t. Your mouth feels dry as the prospect of what Caspian could do and what you want him to do, what you’d briefly been imagining him doing only seconds ago when he announced that he was ready to leave when you’re not even finished getting dressed yet.

“ _Would you like that?_ ” Caspian’s voice is pure sin as one hand deftly undoes the waist of your pants, the other never moving from where it’s ghosting over your cock through your pants as your body stands deathly still and you take shaky breaths.

_Would you like that?_

Yes.

 _Yes_.

 **God, yes**.

If only you could manage to actually speak instead of moaning as Caspian slides a hand inside your pants, palm teasing over bare skin that’s suddenly sensitive to every little touch. Caspian isn’t shy with his touch, either. He knows exactly what he wants to do when he finds the base of your shaft, his own erection hard against your back as he maneuvers your cock free and slowly smooths his hand over the length of it. He has a mischievous grin pressed at your ear, a dark little rumble of laughter echoing there as your body leans fully against his and you grit your teeth, trying to remind yourself that this isn’t really the plan.

The plan, as you had it figured out earlier that day, was to get dressed in your best clothes. You were supposed to stand regally beside Caspian as your engagement was formally announced. There was going to be a celebration in Narnia, as well as your own home. Your parents were supposed to be there, beaming as they looked over the two of you with pride.

That, you sort of remember, was the plan.

And it was a really stupid plan, you realize with sudden clarity as Caspian’s fingers move over the tip of your cock and your body shivers against him. It was a really, wildly, terribly stupid plan. This, Caspian stroking and pumping your cock as your body melts into his and you take sharp, heavy breaths as you moan with each move of Caspian’s hands while he purrs and whispers in your ear, is a far superior plan. It turns out Aslan loves you, after all.

_I love it when you make that sound._

_You’re so hard for me._

_Maybe we should just stay here—what do you think?_

You’re barely managing to stay on your feet as you come closer and closer to the edge, hands reaching out for something to hold onto as you feel the climax building. You don’t even realize when your hand closes around Caspian’s thigh, fingers clenched tightly as you pant and feel him stroking you to a release.

It’s not a big deal that you’re hours away from introducing Caspian, King of Narnia, to your family and your country. It really isn’t.

Or at least, you now realize, it’s not _as_ big a deal as the fact that Caspian is still standing there, looking annoyingly perfect and ready to be seen and adored by the public, while you need to find a new set of clothes that aren’t covered with cum.

Caspian is unrepentant when turn slowly to glare at him, his mischievous grin wide as his eyes sparkle with humor. “What?” There’s a knock at the door as a guard calls out to remind the two of you that you need to be leaving soon and Caspian nods toward it gently, knowing that you weren’t ready before this little scene played out and you’re even less ready now. “Should we go now?”

That grin of his only gets wider as you scowl at him, moving to press Caspian back against the wall and return the favor until he’s looking _a lot_ less perfect. “No,” you say decisively as Caspian watches you, all humor now replaced with something else. “Not yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcome as I live for external validation AND cookies.  
> Also, find me on @artemisausten on tumblr, if you want!


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